


this one's a fighter

by groundopenwide



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bullying, Friendship, M/M, McKinley - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-30
Updated: 2013-07-30
Packaged: 2017-12-21 21:45:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/905302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/groundopenwide/pseuds/groundopenwide
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian makes it his personal mission to win the friendship of the new kid, Blaine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this one's a fighter

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 5 of Seblaine Week 2013.

Maybe it’s a bit pretentious of Sebastian to assume that the new boy will automatically like him and accept his friendship. Then again, no one has ever refused Sebastian’s companionship—he’s just a likeable guy (well, most of the time). Sue him if he assumes that a new student who has been thrust into a sea of strange people might want a friendly face to talk to.

Blaine is simply proving to be much more difficult than he’d expected.

He can’t quite figure the boy out. He is kind, obviously intelligent, and Sebastian can tell that Blaine is often dying to speak, has great things to say, in fact, but he doesn’t. He is painfully quiet, all of the time, and only speaks when spoken to. Not only that, but every time he opens his mouth, he looks as if he is preparing himself to be struck, or yelled at, or worse. There is a haunting vacancy in the depths of his eyes that reels Sebastian in, leaves him desperate to discover what it is that has left Blaine so soft-spoken and empty.

Thus, he refuses to give up on this whole “friendship” thing.

“Hey, there,” he drawls, leaning up against the row of metal lockers beside Blaine as the boy empties some books into his messenger bag. He looks up when Sebastian speaks, his eyes widening minutely before he conjures up a tiny smile and turns back to his things, a flush creeping up his cheeks. Sebastian can’t help but grin victoriously to himself—Blaine is quite adorable whenever he gets that bashful look on his face.

And there’s the other thing—Sebastian is pretty freaking sure that this keep-him-at-a-distance stint is just an act. Blaine likes him. Or wants to like him, maybe, possibly. Sebastian could tell from the very first time he met Blaine, in their shared second-period Spanish class, when Sebastian dropped into the empty seat beside him and introduced himself, that Blaine was gay. He’s just excellently observant like that. Unfortunately, Blaine still seems to be a bit in denial about it. If not denial, then he’s just so far in the closet, he’s nearly in Narnia; and Sebastian  _likes_ Blaine, thinks the boy likes him back, so he just wants to be able to confirm this assumption without constantly wondering whether Blaine will ever speak up about it or not.

Sebastian takes great pride in the fact that, over the course of the three (almost four, now) years he’s been at McKinley, he’s managed to completely transform the campus into a place of tolerance and anti-bullying awareness. When he’d arrived freshman year, dressed in a pink polo shirt, of all things, he’d quickly discovered that anyone outside of the social “norm” was either thrown into a dumpster, pelted in the face with a slushie, or verbally harassed. Most of the time, it was a mixture of the three—and Sebastian, at six foot, was no skimpy freshman who was merely waiting around to get beaten on. So he did the most logical thing: he went to the administration and requested to start a GSA.

It caught on more quickly that he’d expected. Although there were indeed very few homosexuals at McKinley, there was a huge number of people who showed up simply to take a stand against the bullying. And it made Sebastian feel  _good._  He was making a difference; he was helping people.

And that’s exactly what he wants to do for Blaine.

But every time he gets too close, Blaine seems to freeze up and push him away. It is a constant tug-of-war, trying to get to know the other boy, and though it gets to be exhausting, Sebastian refuses to relent. He wants Blaine to feel safe. McKinley is no longer a place filled with violence and fear; he just wishes Blaine would realize that.

“Hi,” the other boy says softly ( _finally,_ Sebastian thinks) as he carefully shuts his locker and turns to peer up at Sebastian. Sebastian, in turn, offers up his signature mega-watt grin before he reaches out to pinch at the hem of Blaine’s shirt, which is a light green color spattered with white stripes. It is perfectly nondescript, screams  _I just want to blend in,_  but Sebastian can still see straight through the façade.

He replies, “I like your shirt. Green is a good color on you.”

There it is again, that muted shade of red spreading across Blaine’s face. He ducks his head and murmurs a quiet, “thanks.”

It’s difficult, barreling his way through their stilted conversations and having to come up with every prompt for speaking—but Blaine might be worth it, hopefully. “Ready for our español presentations today?” he asks casually.

The two of them step away from the bank of lockers and head slowly down the hall, side by side, as Sebastian awaits Blaine’s response. This is how it starts, most of the time; light, superficial topics, in hopes of uncovering something more critical later, once Blaine is comfortable. Every day, it is like they have hit the refresh button, and Sebastian has to coax the boy out of his shell again, and again, and again. But each time he does, whenever he gets just the tiniest bit closer to the real Blaine, he feels utterly accomplished. It’s a nice feeling.

“I’m not good at public speaking…especially in a foreign language,” Blaine groans softly, his fingers flexing around the strap of his bag. Sebastian smiles in reassurance, and—because he can’t seem to help it—reaches out to curl his palm companionably around Blaine’s shoulder.

“You’ll kill it,” he responds adamantly. “Just stare at those posters of the colors in Spanish on the back wall. Making eye contact with the audience only makes the nerves worse.”

They’ve come to a stop in front of Blaine’s first-period English class, and Sebastian’s hand is still on the boy’s shoulder. This is when he realizes with a start that  _Blaine hasn’t jerked away._

Blaine normally shies away from all physical contact.

Every.

Time.

But today, something is different. Blaine is gazing up at him with wide eyes, a shy smile on his face, but there is… _something_ about the expression, something more open and grateful, that warms Sebastian all the way down to his toes.

_Sebastian- 1, Blaine’s shyness- O._

“I’ll do that,” the boy says, before a soft laugh escapes his lips. The sound is like music to Sebastian’s ears. “But that’s easy for you to say, considering you can talk about anything to anyone.”

“I get nervous,” Sebastian argues petulantly, but stalls when he notices the pointed look on Blaine’s face. “Okay, well, maybe I’m just a people person. I can’t help it.”

Blaine laughs again, a gentle, high-pitched noise, before he lowers his eyes, and Sebastian finally drops his palm from the boy’s shoulder. He can’t help but miss the firmness of Blaine’s flesh beneath his palm, the smooth curve of skin and bone and cotton fabric.

(He hopes he can get away with feeling it more, now).

“I’ll see you next period?” Blaine murmurs at last, just as the warning bell chimes from above them, and Sebastian nods enthusiastically, shooting the boy a beaming smile.

“Say howdy to Mrs. Murray for me,” he chirps.

Blaine rolls his eyes but nods dutifully, then turns to head inside. As soon as his back is turned, Sebastian whirls around and pumps his fist into the air, unable to dim the grin that is stretched across his face. Blaine _totally_  wants to be his friend. This is progress.

*

“Do you  _ever_  run out of energy?”

Sebastian finally flops down onto the grass next to Blaine and shakes his head, unwrapping the food from his lunch snack and biting down into his apple. It is a particularly warm day, so the two of them are seated outside by the quad under the shade of a tree, the ground soft and the grass tickling their backs. Blaine is looking over at him in amusement, one eyebrow raised, but there is a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and it makes Sebastian feel like he’s on top of the world.

Their knees knock together every few seconds, and Blaine doesn’t even shy away. It’s  _awesome._

“My parents say that I must have consumed a bunch of red bull as a toddler, and that it never filtered out of my system. It’s the only explanation.”

Blaine snickers, munching absently on his potato chips as he looks away from Sebastian and scans his eyes across the crowded quad in front of him. Sebastian follows his gaze, suddenly spotting a handful of his friends from the school glee club, and he gives them a large wave. Aside from the GSA, Sebastian is also a proud member of the New Directions, along with the school yearbook staff, the Spanish club, and Key and Interact. It doesn’t exactly leave him with a lot of spare time, but he likes having things to do, enjoys the hustle and bustle of everything. Plus, extracurriculars look great on college applications, so why not?

Sadly, this leaves him with minimal free lunch periods to spend with Blaine. He’s invited the boy to some of his meetings before, but Blaine has always politely declined, claiming that he has some sort of studying to do.

This afternoon, though, Blaine decides to surprise him.

“We can go sit with them, if you want,” he offers carefully.

Sebastian’s head snaps around in shock.

“Are you sure?” he asks, dropping a hand to Blaine’s thigh and squeezing gently. “I don’t want you to think we  _have_ to, because I’m totally okay just talking to you—”

“Sebastian,” Blaine interrupts. Sebastian stops as a nervous smile flickers across Blaine’s face, and he adds, “I mean it. It wouldn’t hurt for me to talk to some other people, anyway.”

“Okay,” Sebastian agrees, a bit breathlessly, before lurching up to his feet and reaching out to pull Blaine up with him. This is— _enormous._ It’s monumental. As far as Sebastian is aware, Blaine doesn’t talk to anyone except him, so for him to actually suggest they go and interact with others—

Sebastian wants to wrap his arms around Blaine’s compact form and just  _hug._

They make their way across the quad, Sebastian dropping a quick hello to the people they pass while Blaine hovers uncertainly at his side. When they finally come to the New Directions’ table, Blaine is hidden halfway behind Sebastian’s shoulder, and he musters up a shy wave as Sebastian introduces him to the group, the people scattering to make room for the two of them on one of the benches.

“So, Blaine, how are you liking McKinley?” Tina asks once they’re seated. Sebastian watches Blaine out of the corner of his eye, his fingers squeezing the boy’s own beneath the table in encouragement as his throat works visibly in the act of formulating a reply.

“It’s…big. A lot different than my old school,” he replies softly.

“Where did you transfer from?” Ryder pipes in.

There is an uncomfortable silence, that familiar emptiness creeping into Blaine’s eyes, and it shakes Sebastian to the core. He doesn’t want to jump to conclusions, but…he abruptly thinks that he’s starting to piece Blaine’s story together, bit by bit.

“Ridgemont,” Blaine mutters finally, his eyes dropping to his lap. “It’s—let’s just say it isn’t as…welcoming as McKinley is.”

“That’s in Bellefontaine, isn’t it?” Marley questions cautiously.

Blaine just nods, marking the end of that topic of conversation.

The table around them is drawn back into random chatter, and Sebastian takes the opportunity to turn and face Blaine, who seems focused on the wringing together of his hands in front of them. Sebastian clears his throat softly, and Blaine lifts his eyes at last, looking up at him hesitantly. The fading signs of  _fear_  are written all over his features, and Sebastian’s heart jerks violently in his chest as he is struck with the urge to tuck Blaine away and hide him from the world.

He doesn’t know exactly what’s happened to Blaine, but he gets the distinct impression that it’s something very, very bad.

“You good?” he whispers, and Blaine nods stiltedly before exhaling a shaky breath. His fingers are still wrapped up in Sebastian’s own, and Sebastian squeezes them once more as he hooks their pinkies together.

“I’m good,” Blaine echoes. His eyes travel to their joined hands, and then some of the tension seems to leak from his shoulders as he raises his head and quirks the corner of his mouth up, a private smile that is just for Sebastian.

“Walk home with me today?” Sebastian suggests, forcing himself to crush the warmth that is spiraling through his chest. “They pushed the yearbook deadline back, so I don’t have anywhere to be.”

“Sure,” Blaine agrees quietly. His fingers twitch against Sebastian’s palm, as if they are going to move and lace more firmly between Sebastian’s own, but they remain still. The motion still has Sebastian’s pulse skyrocketing.

*

“I can’t believe you ordered strawberry,” Blaine is saying as he wraps his own lips firmly around the straw of his milkshake and sucks. Sebastian shrugs sheepishly and offers a grin as they drop down to sit on the curb outside of the sweet shop, taking a sip of his own drink and sighing happily. The liquid is cool and creamy on his tongue, and it tastes like  _heaven._

“Be honest—are you even surprised?” he asks a moment later, and Blaine glances over at him with a lopsided grin.

“Not really,” he admits. “It’s pink. I feel like that automatically means you have to have it.”

“That sounds like an insult,” Sebastian huffs, shooting a glimpse at the threaded pink bracelet that is wrapped around his wrist.

“It wasn’t,” Blaine replies quickly before chuckling. “I promise.”

Sebastian takes the short period of silence that follows to gaze over at Blaine and take in the sight of him. His hands are tucked loosely around his Styrofoam cup, his curly hair beginning to escape from its usual gel overdose as the breeze ruffles the strands and causes them to stick up here and there. He is smiling, a faint redness coating his cheeks, but it’s a  _happy_  flush, and Sebastian’s stomach seems to knot up.

 _He’s beautiful,_  Sebastian thinks.

“Can I ask you something?” he intones softly, and Blaine looks up as he nods hesitantly. Sebastian hates to shatter the perfect calmness of the moment, but—he has to know, it’s been bothering him for weeks, now, and for once, he thinks that if he asks, Blaine actually might answer. “Why did you transfer schools?”

Blaine visibly flinches, and the smile falls from his face. Sebastian almost wants to take the question back, but it’s already out there, and it’s too late now. All he can do is hope that Blaine doesn’t suddenly close himself off and refuse to respond.

It physically pains him to watch Blaine shut down like this, to witness the sparkle fade from his eyes, and Sebastian automatically reaches out, sealing his palm over Blaine’s knee. “You don’t have to tell me,” he hurries to add, “I’m just—curious.”

Blaine is silent for so long that Sebastian begins to worry he’s been completely off, that their relationship isn’t ready for the question at all. But then he places his cup down onto the pavement beside him and hunches over, his head bowed as he speaks.

“It was—” Blaine starts, then backtracks. “Not all schools are as open-minded as McKinley, you know? And, well, it’s…Ohio. I came out at the beginning of sophomore year—” Sebastian’s breath hitches at the admission, because this is the first time he’s ever heard Blaine admit out loud that he’s gay. “…and I guess you could say that people didn’t take it well. At first, it was just normal bullying. Name calling, a shove into the lockers, stuff like that. But then, they started taking my things, spray painting words like ‘fag’ onto my locker…they even cornered me in the locker rooms. It was…can you even call it sexual harassment? I don’t know what it was.”

A bitter laugh leaves Blaine’s throat as the boy reaches up and wipes at his eyes, his shoulders shaking as he inhales a sharp breath. “The worst was after the Homecoming Dance. I was leaving the gym, going outside to wait for my parents to pick me up…and this group of guys, they followed me. It was—I can’t even remember what happened after that.”

Sebastian sits, frozen, as he listens to Blaine recount his harassment, and the words leave a stale taste in his mouth. His knuckles suddenly itch to be smashed into the faces of all of the people who have ever hurt Blaine, and he can’t  _breathe,_  he’s so angry. Beside him, Blaine has fallen silent again, the only noise the ragged sound of his breathing, and Sebastian doesn’t think twice. He turns to face Blaine and pulls him forward against his chest, wrapping his arms around the boy’s shoulders and tucking him close, like he’s been wanting to do all along.

“Blaine,” he whispers, smoothing his hand along the boy’s spine and burying his nose into the soft bout of curls near his ear. “You don’t have to be scared anymore. You know that, don’t you?”

It is a painfully long moment before Blaine finally relaxes into the embrace, and then, Sebastian recognizes the feeling of tears wetting his neck. He tightens his hold as Blaine sniffles against his throat and mumbles, “I’m starting to figure it out.”

*

Sebastian finds Blaine at his locker the following morning, the same as any other day. Except today, something has changed—gone are Blaine’s standard jeans and t-shirt. Today, he sports a blue button down and a black-and-white striped bow tie, complete with a white sweater and cropped pants that stop just above his ankles.

He looks—well.

He looks like  _Blaine._ What Sebastian thinks he should’ve looked like all along.

“You know, I thought green was your color,” Sebastian comments upon walking up, and Blaine glances at him, grinning shyly. “But I might just like this look a whole lot better.”

It’s stupidly adorable, is what it is, and when Blaine laughs, loud and clear, Sebastian’s grin is a mile wide.

_Sebastian- 10,000, Blaine’s shyness- 0._

“I decided it was time to be myself,” Blaine announces. He gives Sebastian that tiny smile that is reserved just for him, and Sebastian reaches up to carefully adjust the boy’s bow tie as something flutters inside his chest.

“Well, I like him,” he declares.

Blaine’s cheeks flush, and he says, “me, too.”

*

Blaine comes to New Directions rehearsal that week, and though he’s still a bit quiet and awkward, the group welcomes him with open arms. It isn’t long before Blaine is laughing and chatting with everyone else, and Sebastian keeps his distance, lets Blaine get to know people as he pleases.

At one point, Kitty sidles up to him and says, “I hate to say this, but he’s adorable. Where did you find him?”

Sebastian peers down at her, arms folded over his chest as he smiles crookedly and says, “it took some searching.”

*

The only downside to the  _real_ Blaine is that, well, Sebastian likes him even more.

It’s growing exceedingly more difficult not to reach out and snag Blaine’s hand, or wrap an arm around him and tug him in close, or, better yet,  _kiss him._ Particularly after having Blaine curled up in his arms that day in front of the milkshake shop. Sebastian physically aches with the need to keep Blaine close at all times, and it’s driving him absolutely insane.

On a Wednesday a couple of weeks later, while Sebastian is working on the final draft of one of his yearbook spreads in the computer lab afterschool, the door suddenly pops open and in comes Blaine himself. He is grinning uncertainly, but Sebastian immediately perks up and waves him inside, taking the headphones out of his ears and spinning around in his chair to greet the other boy.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

Blaine flops down into the chair beside him and whirls around in it absently, his feet poking at the carpeted ground as he goes. “Just thought I’d come say hi. Don’t have much else to do.”

Blaine intentionally sought him out.

It shouldn’t feel as much like a novelty as it does.

“Well, I’m doing some really riveting work here, so if you don’t mind,” Sebastian responds sarcastically as he turns back to his computer, and Blaine follows him over, scooting his chair closer and propping his chin up on his fist as he stares at the screen.

“What page are you working on?”

“Relationships,” Sebastian says, dragging the mouse to the folder that contains all of the submitted photos so that he can scroll through. “I honestly don’t see the point, since half of the ‘best friends forever’ and ‘in love’ captions are no longer valid by the time we graduate, but—”

His voice dies off when his gaze catches on a certain photo in the folder, and he double clicks to open it. Beside him, Blaine releases a sound that strongly resembles a nervous squeak, and when Sebastian darts a look at him, his eyes are glued to the screen, his cheeks coloring.

Moving his eyes back to the computer, Sebastian swallows thickly and stares. It is a photograph of him and Blaine, seated side by side at the New Directions’ lunch table in the quad. The photo is taken from a sideways angle, catching their profiles as Blaine leans forward while laughing and Sebastian’s head is tilted down towards him, a fond grin on his lips. His palm rests against the boy’s shoulder, and due to the position of the picture, the sight of his other hand on Blaine’s knee is visible. Sebastian attempts to rack his brain for any memories of one of their fellow glee club members holding a camera, but comes up with nothing, and his attention goes back to the photo, which has the requested caption underneath:

_Opposites Attract_

Sebastian’s tongue suddenly feels heavy in his mouth, and he makes an unintelligible sound, his eyes snapping back to Blaine. The boy next to him has his head ducked, his fingers twisting nervously in his lap as the red on his face deepens.

“I have no clue who submitted this,” Sebastian finally blurts, twisting back around and scurrying to close the photo. “I mean—I don’t have to put in, not if you don’t want me to—”

“You can put it in,” Blaine murmurs, so gently that Sebastian almost misses it. “It’s—well. I have to be in the yearbook somewhere, right?”

Sebastian’s fingers fumble over the mouse as the photo hovers over the recycle bin. “You don’t—I can change the caption, at least?”

But what Blaine says next is, quite possibly, the most surprising of everything he’s done so far.

“You don’t need to do that,” he mumbles, looking up shyly at Sebastian from beneath his eyelashes. “After all, it’s…it’s true, isn’t it?”

The breath swoops out of Sebastian’s lungs.

“Ilikeyou,” he says in a rush, his heart thundering inside of his chest. “I’ve liked you  _forever,_  Blaine. I like you a lot.”

“I like you, too,” Blaine whispers, and then Sebastian is leaning forward to cup the boy’s cheek in his hand, his thumb stroking along the flushed skin.

“I wasn’t sure—” he begins.

“You can be sure now,” Blaine says quietly, the tiniest of smiles appearing on his face.

Sebastian then does the only thing he can think of.

He kisses him.

It’s barely a peck, but Blaine makes the most pleased of all noises against his mouth, encouraging Sebastian to swoop in and kiss him again, and again, and again. Blaine tastes like mint and the chocolate brownie he’d eaten earlier at lunch, and his lips are soft and warm, lining up perfectly with Sebastian’s own. The boy clutches loosely at Sebastian’s orange polo, and Sebastian’s fingers never stray from Blaine’s face, instead tracing back around his ear and slipping around to frame the nape of his neck, the curls there tickling at his fingertips.

“I can’t believe you ever tried to pretend that you  _didn’t_ like me,” Sebastian mumbles as their mouths break apart at last, and Blaine huffs a breathless laugh, the tip of his nose bumping Sebastian’s own.

“I had to make sure you wouldn’t hurt me, first. As it turns out, you’re about as vicious as a small puppy.”

Sebastian scoffs in mock offense as he takes in the grin on Blaine’s face. “Oh, please. I can kick ass when I feel like it.”

“Would you kick someone’s ass for me?”

“Totally.”


End file.
